Comfort
by BittersweetDeceit
Summary: Day 1 of Broh Week: Comfort. On the day of Bolin's parent's death, Bolin tells Iroh about his memories as a child with parents. "I understand the desire to talk to people about these things," he murmured, arms tightening around Bolin's middle. "What were your parents like?"


**A/N Broh week has begun! So, things to remember. It is, like, physically impossible for me to write drabbles, so all of these are going to end up being like 1,000-3,000 words. I guess that's… good? Also, without realizing it, I kinda disregarded the spoilers for season 2 in this. Oh, well. Day 1: Comfort.**

_**Comfort**_

It started out innocently enough. As the two ventured cautiously, yet eagerly, into their new relationship, they figured the beginning should be centered on getting to know each other - past their respective uniforms and onto personality traits.

Within dates of every kind, the two would talk and laugh about their pastimes, their bad habits, their pet peeves, yet it would never divulge further than that. It wasn't a conscious decision from either of them, to not speak of the bad times they had experienced, but of a way to guard themselves. From what, they didn't know, perhaps the fear of rushing too far into their relationship too quickly, or showing weakness in front of the other, they never knew.

Things of a darker nature were simply never brought up.

They learned a great deal about each other in the time spent together, months it was. The general had taken himself away from his ship and obligations there, and instead started to focus himself on Republic City. It was both a selfish and selfless reason, as now he could be closer to Bolin and also build the city up from the ground.

Bolin and Iroh now had a lot of time to spend together, and by that standard, now had a lot of time to talk. Yet, nothing about Bolin's orphanhood or Iroh's strict, brutal training was ever spoken of.

They had been officially together now for six months, more or less. The relationship had succeeded the first kiss and the first date, far beyond that, and had even branched off to the sexual side of things.

Everything, even Mako's watchful, defensive presence, was perfect.

Bolin and Iroh were currently holed up in Iroh's temporary, although, at this point, seemed stable, home. Bolin had brought pre-wrapped noodle containers by the armful, and was ready to dig in to both them and, well, Iroh. Before that, he had to deftly intercept Mako from following him into Iroh's house, though to Mako's credit, he actually _did_ get in on more than one occasion.

Iroh opened the door to Bolin's knocking, and found his boyfriend fidgeting uncomfortably, and when he met Iroh's eyes, gave a very false smile. Iroh paused, considering asking what had gotten Bolin so tense, but just inwardly sighed and opened the door wide, allowing Bolin entry and thinking that if Bolin wanted to tell, then he would.

When Iroh turned around, Bolin was sitting at the table, disregarding all greetings besides a quick kiss, and attacking the noodles with a excited vengeance. Iroh laughed and shut the door, sitting across from Bolin at the table and grabbing noodles and chopsticks for himself.

The two exchanged pleasantries while they ate their dinner, and before they knew it, the food was forgotten and all they were capable of thinking about was the other's lips of theirs.

They stumbled their way to Iroh's bed, tripping over everything two feet above the ground and under, until they finally fell onto the plush comforter. Iroh was tracing Bolin's lips with his tongue when he realized that his boyfriend didn't seem to be enjoying himself.

He pulled back and gave Bolin an inquisitive look. Bolin shifted uneasily under Iroh's eyes, looking everywhere but Iroh.

Iroh twined his fingers with Bolin, coaxing him softly to make eye contact with him. "Are you alright?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Bolin shrugged.

"Mako didn't want me coming today…" he trailed off, sitting up and playing with his fingers in his lap.

Iroh chuckled. "He doesn't want you coming to any of our dates. He is just a protective older brother."

Bolin looked up. "I know, I know. But, like, he _really_ didn't want me coming today."

"Why?"

Bolin tensed, his eyes shaking as he stuttered over his words. "I mean, I don't remember, 'cause I was, like, little and stuff, but Mako remembers, 'cause he was old, but-"

"Bolin?" Iroh asked slowly, concerned. Bolin sighed, shoulders slumping dejectedly.

"Our parents died today," Bolin deadpanned. "Mako and I usually just sit around and try not to, y'know, cry."

Iroh gaped. "Bo- Bolin, I apologize. I don't know what it's like to lose a parent, but I am truly, truly sorry."

"Nah," Bolin muttered, "You don't have to apologize."

"But, if you don't mind my asking," Iroh asked carefully, "why don't you want to spend this day with your brother? It seems like the right thing to do, and you know I won't be angry if you want to leave."

"It gets really sad, I guess, just sitting around. I want to talk to Mako about it, but he never seems to want to. It's just really depressing."

Iroh scanned Bolin over, from his bowed head and hunched shoulders to his firmly clasped hands and restless legs. His face was drawn and reserved, though his eyes were trembling. Iroh sighed and pulled him close.

"I understand the desire to talk to people about these things," he murmured, arms tightening around Bolin's middle. "What were your parents like?"

Bolin glanced up to him in surprise, eyes staring into Iroh's in wonder. An inkling of a sad smile took over Bolin's lips and he forced the lump from his throat to speak.

"I don't remember too much of them," he began, "but I remember these stupid little tidbits, some of which I don't even know actually happened. It might be my mind making them up.

"But there was this one instance that Mako told me actually happened, where I was really small, like, five or six, and my mother was fixing up a nice jacket for me. I was standing on a stool while she pinned the cloth back, and I just remember being so happy. Mako wasn't, though." Bolin laughed softly. "He was so jealous! He kept trying to sneak the jacket off my shoulders when mom wasn't looking."

Iroh chuckled along with Bolin, waiting for him to continue. "Finally, dad just had to take him into the next room to talk. He was still really angry about it."

Bolin paused, trying to conjure up another memory but falling short. He only vividly remembered the one he had just spoken of, and one very distant, yet considerably less amusing. Bolin had never spoken of these things in depth to anyone, barely even Mako, and he found himself unwilling to stop.

"I only have one other," Bolin muttered. "And it's… not as happy."

In response, Iroh tightened his hold on Bolin and leaned his head against the top of Bolin's head, closing his eyes softly. Feeling reassured, Bolin took a shaky breath and continued.

"We were all at the market," he said, "buying food for lunch. My parents were glancing over the produce and inspecting them, I think, and they bought some. I saw this candy stand across the street and ran to it, my mother following me. The sales keeper was an old woman or man, I can't remember, and she let me have a sample.

"Mom told me she had to pick up some extra vegetables with dad and Mako, and that she'd be back in a few minutes. She told me to stay right there, right next to the candy shack with the old woman… or man. The salesperson gave me a free piece of candy, to keep me occupied, I think. It lasted me only about ten minutes.

"It started to get darker, and the candy person was getting anxious, watching me in wonder. Then, I think it was nearly two hours later, Mako came rushing towards me, clothes all dirty and his eyes really wide."

Bolin stopped, unable to go on. Iroh sensed this and placed a lingering kiss on the top of Bolin's head. A silence overtook them, of which the only sound heard was the muffled sounds of Bolin holding in his cries.

Iroh, shaking his head to clear his cloudy, grief-stricken thoughts, positioned himself so he and Bolin could face each other. He took Bolin's shaking hands in his and gently wiped a stray tear from Bolin's face.

"Thank you for telling me," Iroh whispered softly, "and it's okay to cry. Never think it isn't." Bolin looked up, eyes red. "I think you should go talk to your brother," Iroh mumbled, "this is something you two need to share."

"He's never wanted to before."

"Talking about these kind of things can be really hard," Iroh said, "Maybe he was just afraid. But this is an important day for you two to share, and talking these things out will make the upcoming years that much easier."

"I've always wanted to."

Iroh gave Bolin a small smile, leaning over to place a chaste kiss on Bolin's lips. "I'll walk you to your house."

Minutes later found the two walking down the near desolate streets together, silence surrounding them. When they arrived at the brother's house, Bolin looked to Iroh with his red-rimmed eyes but a smile on his face. "Thanks for listening, too."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else if you wanted me to listen, Bo," Iroh murmured, squeezing Bolin's hands one last time before walking off with a single wave.

Iroh heard the door of their house open and Mako's confused query, followed by the sounds of a strong hug and soft, hushed words, and Iroh knew that with this night and it's memory, him and Bolin could talk about anything together.


End file.
